


something tragic, something so magic

by thelittlebirdthattoldyou



Series: spiker-setter week 2020 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Outsider, Urban Fantasy, by which i mean everything happens the same as in canon but supernatural creatures exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26377726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlebirdthattoldyou/pseuds/thelittlebirdthattoldyou
Summary: It’s strange. Considering how popular he is, it should be impossible for Oikawa to keep it a secret. Kindaichi has only been on the team for a day, but he already knows about the other supernaturals on the team. Matsukawa-san’s family dabbles in witchcraft. Yahaba-san is part fae.Iwaizumi-senpai comes from a werewolf bloodline. Kindaichi knows this because one of their practice matches at Kitagawa Daiichi had aligned with the full moon, and he had to stay home. They lost badly because Oikawa opted to sit out and take care of his best friend rather than play.Five times people tried to guess what kind of supernatural Oikawa was, and one time someone already knew (and loved him for it anyway).
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: spiker-setter week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912567
Comments: 31
Kudos: 470
Collections: Haikyuu: Spiker-Setter Week





	something tragic, something so magic

**Author's Note:**

> spiker-setter week day 4: **supernatural** | ~~space~~
> 
> title: “from eden” by hozier.
> 
> some worldbuilding notes: the au is very vague but we’ll just assume that about 20% of the population are supernatural beings of some sort or another. for reference 10% of people are left-handed.
> 
> brief note: my internet is insanely slow today so i'm v sorry if i haven't replied to your comments on my earlier works!! i've read & loved them and i'll reply as soon as my wifi lets me :((

I. 

On the day of their first practice at Aoba Johsai, Oikawa Tooru is every bit as much of a mystery as he was three years ago in middle school. He’s all flirty smiles one minute and deadly serves the next, and while Kindaichi likes to think that he knows more about people now that he’s older, he still can’t get a handle on what Oikawa _is._

“I think vampire, maybe,” Kindaichi says to Kunimi. They’re in the middle of cooldown stretches, watching from the sidelines as Oikawa talks to a few other first years.

“Sure,” Kunimi says.

“Doesn’t he act like Kageyama?”

Kageyama, based on Kindaichi’s observations from the years they’d played together, is not a normal vampire. For one, he much prefers milk to blood. But he’s a monster on the court, cold and sharp and focused; Oikawa shares that kind of raw intensity. His reflexes, his reactions, his precision are inhuman.

“Uh huh,” Kunimi says.

It’s strange. Considering how popular he is, it should be impossible for Oikawa to keep it a secret. Kindaichi has only been on the team for a day, but he already knows about the other supernaturals on the team. Matsukawa-san’s family dabbles in witchcraft. Yahaba-san is part fae.

Iwaizumi-senpai comes from a werewolf bloodline. Kindaichi knows this because one of their practice matches at Kitagawa Daiichi had aligned with the full moon, and he had to stay home. They lost badly because Oikawa opted to sit out and take care of his best friend rather than play, and Kageyama had still been inexperienced then.

“Do you think I should ask him?” Kindaichi asks.

Kunimi hums, and Kindaichi chooses to take it as agreement. It’s always hard to tell with him.

So he stands and walks over to the cluster of third years. They stop talking and look up at his approach.

Kindaichi bows. “Oikawa-senpai!”

“Ah? Did you need something, Kindaichi?”

And Kindaichi is tall for his age—taller than Oikawa, even—but he shrinks under the curious gazes aimed at him. It’s like he’s under a spotlight. “Uh—n—nothing, senpai. I was just—I was wondering if you wanted anything from the vending machines? M—maybe a packet of blood?”

Oikawa tilts his head, an unreadable look in his eyes. Kindaichi hunches further.

Iwaizumi knocks Oikawa’s shoulder with his knuckles. “Oi, Idiotkawa. Be nice to the first years.”

After a brief pause where he turns to stick his tongue out at Iwaizumi, Oikawa laughs and waves a hand. “Don’t be silly! I would never let an underclassman pay for me.” His smile softens, then, and he reaches up to ruffle Kindaichi’s hair. “Good work at practice today, yeah? You’ll be great on the team.”

Kindaichi nods and bows, a little starstruck. Which is ridiculous, because Oikawa is every bit as much of a normal high schooler as he is. Though it’s hard to see Oikawa as a normal _anything,_ really. He shuffles back to where Kunimi is waiting for him by the bench.

“So?” Kunimi prompts. He even sounds interested, at least by his standards. “What is he?”

“I have no idea.”

Kunimi shrugs. “Too bad. Can we go home, now?”

He heads to the changing room. Kindaichi follows. Maybe it doesn’t matter; Oikawa, whatever he is, will be a good captain. And that’s all Kindaichi needs.

* * *

II.

“Who does this guy think he is?” Tanaka asks no one in particular. Beside him, Nishinoya nods in furious agreement. They watch as Oikawa blows a kiss to his admiring fangirls, who squeal and giggle in response.

“He’s not even that good-looking,” Tanaka says. “He’s gotta be, like, a siren or something.”

“He probably has all those girls under his evil spell.”

“Those poor girls.”

“We should do something.”

“We need to save them.”

Just as Tanaka is starting to fantasize about swooping in and charming those girls away from Oikawa’s clutches, though, a shrill whistle rings out through the gym.

“Focus!” Daichi shouts, and soon Tanaka doesn’t have time to fume over Oikawa’s skill with the ladies because he’s too busy fuming over Oikawa’s pinpoint serve.

* * *

III.

“Dragon?” Yahaba asks.

Watari considers it for a second and then discards the idea. “Nah. He doesn’t seem the type.”

“Really? What’s the type?”

They talk in quiet voices, only as loud as they need to be to be heard above the rumble of the bus’s engines. They’re coming back from a training camp, tired and sore. Most of them are asleep - Oikawa, the subject of their conversation, is snoring away a few rows ahead with his head tucked in the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck—but it’s always been hard for Watari to fall asleep on moving objects, and Yahaba doesn’t need to sleep often in general. They’re keeping each other company.

“Kitsune?” Watari asks.

At that, the heads of their upperclassman pop up from the seat in front of them. “Talking about our dear captain?” Hanamaki asks with a mischievous grin.

“He can’t be a kitsune,” Matsukawa says. “He’s too dumb.”

They snicker, and Watari and Yahaba exchange looks. Neither of them feel as comfortable making fun of Oikawa as the other third years do.

“We’ve been trying to figure it out for more than a year,” Yahaba says. “And no luck.”

“Don’t bother,” Matsukawa says. “There are people who have been trying for way longer. His own parents might not know.”

“Mattsun and I have a theory about it. Wanna hear?”

Watari shrugs. It’s not like he spends all his free time agonizing over what kind of supernatural Oikawa is, but there’s nothing better to do. And he’s not going to lie; he is curious.

“Because it’s embarrassing,” Hanamaki says with a grin. “It’s the only reasonable explanation. He’s related to some creature so gross and ugly that he knows he can’t admit it, or we’d roast him for the rest of our lives.”

“Like a troll,” Matsukawa says.

“Or a goblin. He has the personality for it.”

Despite himself, Watari laughs. Yahaba, who has more respect for the captain, looks alarmed, which makes him laugh harder. He watches as Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s smirks grow wider, and they spend the rest of the ride coming up with increasingly ridiculous suggestions. _A gorgon_ — _a tengu_ — _a jorogumo._

Meanwhile, Oikawa slumbers on, warmed by the body of his best friend beside him and oblivious to the fun his teammates are having at his expense.

* * *

IV.

Ushijima doesn’t seek him out. He never intends to run into Oikawa after their games, but he usually does anyway, and this time is no different.

“I’m too tired for this,” Oikawa mumbles when he approaches, in a voice loud enough for Ushijima to hear. He’s sure Oikawa intended it that way.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says. “You played well.”

Oikawa’s eyes harden. Time is running out for them, and he must know it. Now that the Summer Interhigh is over, Aoba Johsai only has one more chance to go to nationals. Oikawa, being in his third year as well as the captain of his team, must take the loss especially hard.

“But I could have played better if I’d been setting to you instead,” Oikawa says with a sneer. “Is that what you came here to say?”

“You made a choice,” Ushijima says, “and you must live with the result.”

He rolls his eyes. “Great. Thank you for your wise words, O great Ushiwaka. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my team is waiting.”

Ushijima watches his retreating back and, not for the first time, wonders.

Centuries ago, before the supernatural protection laws enacted by the government and the general sentiment of acceptance for supernaturals in society, the Ushijima family worked as a highly esteemed clan of bounty hunters. They have long since switched to other pursuits, but some of the instinct must still remain.

Ushijima thinks that if he focuses hard enough, he can register a faint sort of aura emanating from Oikawa’s body, so incongruous with the bland school hallways around him. He thinks Oikawa must be something wild and strange, what with the way he holds himself above other people like he is too good to be one of them.

Perhaps he is one of the fair folk. He is certainly proud enough.

* * *

V.

Kyoutani will never admit it out loud, but he doesn’t ditch the volleyball team because of his attitude, or his teamwork problems, or anything else that Yahaba and the others might think. Not entirely, anyway.

He doesn’t ditch because of the third years. He ditches because of one third year in particular.

Every time he’s forced to be in Oikawa’s presence, his hair stands on end. There’s a viciousness to his actions, a kind of restrained cruelty to his smile. As if he could cut you apart from the inside out with nothing but his words.

Kyoutani, as a werewolf, takes pride in how intimidated other people become in his presence. The other seniors are wary of his powerful, uncontrolled spikes; Yahaba and Watari look concerned whenever he so much as moves; and the first years are downright terrified. He doesn’t take orders from anyone, except Iwaizumi, who he begrudgingly accepts as his alpha only until the day he can challenge him and win.

Oikawa, though, is different. He’s something colder or deadlier. Even the most unusual of supernaturals retain some degree of humanness, yet when Oikawa flashes those sharp teeth, he looks anything but.

_Demon,_ Kyoutani finally decides, after a week of practice. A week of walking around with his hackles raised. It’s the only explanation. Someone like him can’t be of this world.

After a while, Kyoutani grows to accept it. He stops feeling like he wants to jump out of his own skin every time Oikawa glances in his direction. It’s even kind of cool, in its own way, that they have such an asset on their team.

After a while, with extra help from Iwaizumi and Yahaba, Kyoutani accepts his place on the team, too. Things only look brighter from there.

* * *

\+ 1.

They lose again.

One evening is nowhere near enough time to process everything. Iwaizumi replays the match over and over in his mind, always drifting back to that one spike. If he’d gotten there faster, if he’d been able to hit harder, if he’d been a better ace for his team—

If only. The regrets swirl in his mind and threaten to suffocate him, and he knows Oikawa must feel the same way. They’re curled up together on Iwaizumi’s bed, Oikawa’s head on his shoulder, neither wanting to be alone.

Iwaizumi brushes his thumb over the tear tracks on Oikawa’s cheeks, which makes him shift slightly, eyes flicking to Iwaizumi’s face.

“Iwa-chan?” he asks, and his voice is brittle. Here, legs tucked close to his chest, moonlight catching on his damp eyes and casting shadows over the divots in his collarbone, he looks more human than Iwaizumi has ever seen him.

The word _delicate_ comes to mind. Iwaizumi knows Oikawa would hate to be thought of that way, but he can’t help it. Oikawa puts up a front so often, all inflated ego and shallow charm, that even Iwaizumi gets caught up in it and forgets how fragile he really is.

“Stop thinking,” Iwaizumi tells him. “You did your best. We all did.”

Oikawa lets out a bitter laugh. “And we still couldn’t make it. How am I supposed to compete when there are people like Tobio out there? And Ushiwaka? People with powers and bloodlines. I’m just me.”

_Just human,_ goes unsaid.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi sets his fingers underneath Oikawa’s jaw and lifts his head up until their eyes meet. “You’re enough, Tooru.”

Oikawa’s face crumples. “Iwa-chan, I—"

Even like this, Iwaizumi thinks he’s beautiful. He lets Oikawa bury his face in his chest and cry himself out. He rubs Oikawa’s back and murmurs whatever words come to mind, and everything he’s stopped himself from saying for years comes pouring out.

“You’re enough,” he says. “You’re so amazing, Tooru, you mean the world to me. I’m so proud of you. I love you. I love you.”

Oikawa stiffens under him. He lifts his head, bewilderment written all over his features, eyelashes glistening with caught tears. Every part of him is so lovely that Iwaizumi’s heart aches to have it.

“Iwa-chan. You—what did you—”

“I love you. Jeez, how many times do I have to—”

“You mean that?” Oikawa asks, cutting him off.

Iwaizumi huffs and presses a kiss to Oikawa’s forehead. “Of course I do.”

Oikawa bites his lip. “Iwa-chan. I mean—I can’t be what you need. I can’t give you a pack, and I won’t be a mate for you like another werewolf would be. I’m not what you want.”

“You’re an idiot,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa frowns, affronted. “Those things—packs and mates and whatever—aren’t so literal, you know? All they mean is family. All they mean is home. And you’re already those things to me.”

Iwaizumi watches, entranced, as Oikawa lights up hearing the words. “So romantic, Iwa-chan.”

He’ll refrain from yelling or hitting Oikawa, just this once. “If you lo—if you feel the same way, then say so. Stop worrying about what you think I want or need. Because it’s always you.”

Oikawa’s smile widens. “I do. Feel the same way. Obviously.”

And that does nothing to still the rapid beating of Iwaizumi’s heart. If anything, it pounds faster. “Can I kiss you?”

Oikawa nods, and Iwaizumi brings their lips together.

It’s like destiny, or it’s fate, or it’s simply the best decision he’s made in his life ‘til now. Oikawa kisses soft and he tastes sweet, and Iwaizumi wouldn’t mind if the world ended tomorrow and the last thing he knew was the feeling of Oikawa’s mouth on his. His hand is still over Oikawa’s heart, and he does his best to memorize the rhythm of it. He wants to make Oikawa’s heartbeat the metronome of his entire life, the baseline that guides his every action.

Oikawa is pliant under him, warm skin and warmer blood. _Human. Alive._ Iwaizumi could snap his spine if he wanted, but he doesn’t, and Oikawa trusts him not to. Blind faith like that is intoxicating, especially coming from someone who is so guarded in all other parts of his life.

“You’re enough,” Iwaizumi repeats once they draw apart. “This isn’t the end, you know. You’re going to keep playing, and you’re going to get even better, and no one else matters but you.”

“I know.” Oikawa flashes his signature cocky grin. It’s tight around the edges, but it’s getting there. “You too, Iwa-chan. It wasn’t your fault today. You’re not allowed to lecture me if you won’t take your own advice.”

Iwaizumi offers him a sheepish smile. He should have known better to think than he could hide his own doubts from Oikawa. “Thanks,” he says.

Oikawa looks away. “And I love you, too.”

He says the words so quiet, so fast that they’re almost unintelligible, but Iwaizumi hears them, and he smiles. They’re going to be all right.

**Author's Note:**

> iwaizumi n oikawa mutually depending on and supporting e/o is my aesthetic pls n ty.
> 
> [my tumblr](https://thelittlebirdthattoldyou.tumblr.com/)


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